Life goes on
by Oiche
Summary: Set after Not Fade Away, another Brody fic. The Scoobs return to LA and stumble upon an astounding tableau


Spike woke up from a peaceful slumber and glanced down lovingly at his family

Spike woke up from a peaceful slumber and glanced down lovingly at his family's matriarch. Brody, his wife, mate, best friend, was draped across the bed. She lay on her stomach with an arm and leg hanging out of their bed. Spike pulled her completely into the bed and covered her lithe, nude, ivory body more fully. He watched happily until she stopped fidgeting and settled under the sheets. As she murmured and mumbled in her sleep he slid from the bed and crossed to the door into the rest of their suite.

He slipped into the sitting area and crossed to the door nearest the one he had exited. Spike opened the door gently and quietly and was assailed by the scent of his miracle children; baby smell, lavender bath wash, their mum, their surrogate family, pasta and apple juice. He stepped inside the room and gazed at his babies. They were lit by a patch of moonlight and lay side-by-side in their huge crib. He and Brody didn't want them split up, so the children shared the beautiful, Victorian, cradle that Wesley had bought them. They were gorgeous, their little faces peaceful as they lay facing each other, both with messy, chestnut coloured hair and azure eyes. Little William was named for his father but was more like his mother in personality and looks; he had her nose, brows, lips but had his father's chin, cheekbones and jaw. Joyce-Anne was his little princess; stubborn and proud. She had his nose and chin but her cheeks were curvier than his, more like her mother's; her lips had also been inherited from her father.

The children's eyes and hair were the same colour. Their eyes were blue like both their parents' but seemed to be a shade somewhere between. Sometimes the babies' orbs looked cerulean and deep like their father's and other times the blue was tinted with grey and seemed cloudy like their mother's misty eyes. Their hair was the colour Spike's had been when he was human but was highlighted by a sparse amount of the strange pale pink colour of their mother's hair. They were both wearing mismatching pyjamas; William's outfit consisted of the top of the Ramones pyjamas Spike had hunted high and low for and the bottoms of Spiderman footie-pyjamas. Joycie was wearing The Clash bottoms and a Postman Pat top.

They were now a year old and had both spoken their first words. William's had been 'daddy dude' as Brody referred to Spike around the children, although it sounded more like 'dada dud'. Which had resulted in uncontrollable laughter among the others, he, personally, hadn't thought it that funny at all. Joyce-Anne's words had been even less conventional. Spike had returned home from visiting Clem and saw Angel playing cars with the two babies on the ground. Connor sat nearby doing college work and occasionally posing questions to Brody. Brody was hanging upside-down by her knees from the banister, flipping through a Jane Austen novel for the billionth time and humming 'London Calling'. Wesley sat behind the desk diligently working his way through a pile of paper-work. Illyria sat on the floor polishing her vast array of weapons. The chest had been left in the middle of the room and Spike didn't notice it. His toe caught on the edge of the metal box and sent him careening head-first into a wall.

"Oh Bugger, Bugger, Bugger!" he had whined, rubbing his forehead.

As Brody slid from her previous position to cross the room towards him, they all froze. A tiny voice was giggling and exclaiming. "Bugga! Bugga! Bugga!"

Spike and Brody had exchanged a glance before falling into a fit of laughter and descending with kisses and smiles on their baby girl. Soon William was crying for attention and Wesley clambered to take the little boy in his arms. Their crazy family surrounded Spike's immediate family and Spike had never been happier.

He and Peaches were on better terms, not the best of buddies and they still fought all the time, but now they had bonded over both of their children and Brody. Angel had once said to him that he believed every man Brody knew was slightly in love with her, Spike didn't doubt it. He'd never met anyone quite like her. She took you in, gave you all her heart, gave you all the love she could and made all the hurt and pain fade away. She was loyal and intelligent and witty and beautiful.

Connor was a god-send, Spike knew that, one day, the young man would be perfect for supporting the children, he was the only one in the world who would be able to relate to them on being the impossible children of vampires. He was easy to get along with and was open to Spike's re-education on 'good' music. Connor was moreover great to patrol with, his vampire skills were as finely tuned as the two master vampires' and Spike was thankful for having someone strong that could also be there in daylight, other than Brody. Enough responsibility had been put on her small shoulders for more than one lifetime.

Illyria had softened considerably, when Wesley had been found to be actually alive she had turned over a new leaf. She had been working on the transition from goddess to demon-human hybrid and was doing surprisingly well. Brody had befriended her soon after their introduction and had astonished the old ex-goddess with her kindness and huge heart. Illyria was shockingly one of the most doting on the children in the group, constantly showering them with gifts and random praise that they failed to comprehend.

Wesley was Spike's comrade in arms and he, Brody and Spike spent many hours laughing at jokes the others failed to understand. Damn Yanks, as Wes would say. The ex-watcher was far more accepting of the grey areas in life than Giles had ever been, not that Spike was bitter for the failed attempt on his life or anything. Wesley was a fellow Cambridge man and was familiar with all of the literature that Spike had secretly lusted over for years. Now, thanks to Wes' and Brody's influence, he was no longer ashamed to admit the passion he had for poetry. In fact, for the first time in years he was avidly writing again. Brody swore that she genuinely liked his work.

She was his muse, his passion, his soul mate. He'd never thought that he would be able to love again after Buffy but he was wrong. The love he'd given Buffy was selfless and soul-destroying but with Brody, everything was easy. She returned his love with a vigour that matched his own and he'd never been so happy in all his hundreds of years. He knew that the Powers had brought them together, that everything that had happened in his life so far led him to her, to this moment. His devastating heartbreak at Cecily's hands, his turning, Drusilla's illness and revival at the Hellmouth, his attraction to the Slayer and back to the Hellmouth, his incarceration and neutering at the Initiative's hands, his path towards good, his seeking of his soul, his sacrifice to save the world, his return to Angel, his aid in the battle against the army of the Senior Partners. All of it, it had all happened so that he and Brody could be together. And he regretted not one thing that he'd had to endure in order to receive his prize. Shanshu be damned, he finally had the type of love that he'd longed for since he was eleven and saw his parents' love match.

His life was perfect. And it scared him. He was not pessimistic by nature but life had taught him that something always disrupted that kind of bliss, so yeah, he was scared shitless.

Dawn Summers had changed a lot since the fall of Sunnydale, two years previously. She was now a trained fighter and a hell of a lot less whiny. She was confident and utterly comfortable with herself and who she was.

But she was also full of regret. The main one was the things she'd left unsaid. When her mom had died she'd known that Joyce knew just how much Dawn loved her. But Spike had died saving the world and died thinking that she despised him. And it killed her inside. He had been her idol, her confidant, her friend and a really hot yet brotherly figure. He'd protected her with his life and cared for her that horrible summer when Buffy was gone, even though all he'd wanted was to give up and drink himself into a stupor. One piece of prejudiced view on an incident from Xander and she'd turned her back on the vampire who'd gone against his nature because his love for her sister, mother and herself.

That's why she reasoned her trip. She'd shop in LA and do all the things that she'd used as a cover story for her visit back to the States but the one day that Buffy would be busy in meetings she would visit what was left of Sunnydale and try to make peace.

Dawn looked across at her sister in the seat, of the Council's private jet, opposite her. She was asleep, drooling slightly and snoring loudly. Dawn smiled. The last year had been better. For a long time all Buffy could do was mourn but then she'd done as Spike told her, she'd lived. No longer was she haggard and tired looking and too thin. She was rounder but just as fit and her hair was once more a thick, golden mane. No shadows marred her eyes and smiles were once more commonplace. They were both attending university in Italy and England. Buffy would now be able to get whatever job she wanted, if she chose not to continue running the sizable department of the Watcher's Council. Dawn delighted in the pride her sister took in finally finishing her education.

Dawn squirmed a bit in the plush chair, her numerous thoughts keeping sleep at bay. She looked up as Xander, Giles and Willow walked back from the air-hockey table and sat back down in their seats.

"How long 'til we land?" Dawn asked of the group with a yawn.

"We touch down in LAX in half an hour." Giles informed her with a tired smile. He'd met them only minutes before their departure from England after only arriving back from Tibet. Exhaustion etched his distinguished face.

"Home sweet home" muttered Xander.

"Home sweet home" Willow sighed happily, while America held lots of bad memories they were also so many good ones, besides she hadn't seen her parents in so long.

"Bleedin' America!" Giles added with fake grumpiness and they all laughed. Dawn beamed, life was good.

Buffy stretched as she stared about her and walked down a busy LA street, it was nice seeing home after so long, seeing the places where she'd grown up. It could plainly be seen that they'd been in Europe for two years. Their group of five were leaner, more relaxed, better dressed and more poised than any others on the street and they stood out sharply. But in a good way, appreciative glances were thrown at each and everyone of them. They all smiled and giggled at each other, it was so weird.

As Buffy stared about her she saw a very welcome sight. Clem was hurrying by with a bunch of brightly wrapped Christmas presents in his arms. She called out to him but he didn't hear; he was too far away. Nodding at the others they rushed after him.

They followed him to the grounds of a huge, ornate townhouse. Clem let himself into the house before they could call out to him again.

"What now?" Willow said, frowning at the door reproachfully.

"We knock." Buffy shrugged and proceeded to do just that.

The door swung open to reveal a beautiful young woman, of about twenty years of age, with long, wavy, silky, pale-pink hair, an angelic face and a lithe build. A baby boy, around a year and a half old, was balanced on her hip and a little girl of similar age held onto her left hand. Both children were absolutely adorable and looked up at the strangers with inquisitive blue eyes.

"Can I help you?" the woman asked with a beaming smile.

"Um, yes…" Giles began but was cut off by excited squeals.

"Unnca Lorne! Unnca Lorne!" the children yelled delightedly as a green, red-horned demon appeared behind the Scoobies on the front steps.

Lorne didn't notice the Scoobies in his haste to scoop up the babies. He whirled them around and laughed jubilantly along with the squeaking children.

"Lorne?" Willow gawped.

The demon turned at the sound of his name and squinted, then frowned. "Uh-oh…" he trailed off as they heard excited whoops from inside the house. A gasping Angel and Spike came running at the woman who'd answered the door. The Scoobs watched in shock as Spike bundled the woman in his arms and the two vampires whipped sprigs of mistletoe from behind their backs.

"Mistletoe!" they both announced joyfully as they each rained kisses down on the woman's face. She crumpled into a giggling mess and swatted them away half-heartedly. Spike set her back down and turned to greet Lorne while Angel wrapped an arm around the woman's waist.

The two vampires froze when they saw the bewildered, astonished Scoobies.

"Bu-buffy!" Angel stuttered.

Before anything else could be said, the children chose that moment to run at Spike shouting "Papa!" and Connor decided to come running to the door calling "Dad!"

All five visitors fainted; it was all too much to take in.


End file.
